


Clever Trick (or Treat?)

by readbycandlelight



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, One True Pairing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbycandlelight/pseuds/readbycandlelight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Darcy’s Halloween is turning out to be major suckville, on account of she’s gotten the short end of the stick and has to watch Loki in his big glass cell… Things take an even worse turn when Loki decides to show her a trick (or is it a treat?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clever Trick (or Treat?)

Clever Trick (or Treat?)

\----------------------------------

Darcy heaved a heavy sigh of boredom as Freddie Krueger killed his victims on the TV monitor. She was currently in the drab grey underground captivity chamber of the Avenger's Tower, spinning restlessly in her swivel chair as, not even fifteen feet away, a cavernous glass cell encapsulated SHIELD's intergalactic war criminal - Loki. Speaking of which, she looked over to him, deciding that she'd been looking at the TV monitor long enough and should do a check-up on the trickster god. He was on the bench built into the chamber. A blank look was on his sharply angled face and he was just sitting there. He'd been in this trance-like state since she'd gotten here.

God, this job was so boring. "My life totally sucks. Do you know that I'm missing out on what is sure to be an epic Halloween party because of you?"

It was the first time that she had directly spoken to him. It was the first time she had seen him up close too, for that matter. She usually was doing assistant work in Jane Foster's lab up in the Tower, but tonight, because it was a holiday, everyone on SHIELD's roster had had their names put on a list, which JARVIS had shuffled at random - and, get this, she'd been the unlucky S.O.B. who'd gotten picked out of hundreds of SHIELD personnel to babysit the God of Mischief. How peachy.

"I mean, I had a costume picked out and everything! And because of you it's all going to waste! I was gonna be Morticia Addams," she said with emphasis. "As in the Morticia Addams, with the sexy black dress and the hair and the love of darkness! Does that mean nothing to you?"

Throughout Darcy's speech, the life seemed to have entered back into Loki's eyes. His dark brows knitted together in confusion for a moment before his lips curled in distaste. He had no idea what she was on about. "My greatest sympathies," he said in the driest, most unsympathetic voice she had ever heard.

"Oh, don't you just sound so sincere…jerk," she scoffed, before turning her attention back to the TV monitor.

Wild screams of horror emanated from the TV. From behind her, now that Loki had been cast out from his dark thoughts, he was painfully aware of his surroundings…and the melodramatic noise. "Mortal," he called out. She didn't hear him over the screams. "Mortal," he said louder, in his most commanding voice - the same one he'd used in Germany when he'd yelled 'Kneel!'

That definitely caught her attention. Darcy jumped and felt a shiver go down her spine as that voice seemed to burrow itself under her skin and make goosebumps tighten her flesh. "What?!" she asked irritably, as she turned back around. Her heart was beating a little faster, but she reminded herself to keep her cool. He's behind SHIELD's super indestructible glass, Lewis, she reminded herself.

"I must ask you to turn your Midgardian picture box off. It's grating," he said in a voice that was not asking, but demanding.

Darcy frowned at him. He sounded like a spoiled prince - which he might have been on Asgard - but he was on Earth now. Her rules, buddy. "Well, we don't always get what we want now, do we?" she asked in a prim voice. "I'm missing out on the Halloween party, so it's only fair that you have to suffer through my Maboovian picture box noise," she said with air quotes.

"It's Midgar-" he started to say with a look on his face that suggested he thought she was very stupid, but he seemed to change his mind and not waste his time on explaining. Instead, he shook his head and stood up from his seat, a slow grin spreading on his lips as he hovered in front of the glass nearest to her.

"I won't always be in this cage, you know."

His words were a dark promise. Sinister retribution rang from every note like ripping silk.

He had her full attention now. Her mouth went suddenly dry as she met his gaze. There was an iridescent gleam in his eyes, that reminded her of light playing off of blades. Sharp and deadly.

I think I liked it better when he was staring off into space, Darcy thought as her stomach knotted in fear. Now that he was standing he looked a million times more menacing. The dude was super tall and solidly built within all that armor and metal. "You sure about that, bucko?" she asked with false bravado. "'Cause you've pissed a looooot of people off here on Earth. I'm pretty sure your trial's gonna end with you sentenced to a bajillion years under here. And since you're immortal and all, you'll be able to serve. Every. Single. Last. One of them."

To Darcy's mounting fear, her words seemed to have the opposite effect on him. His mischievous grin became more knowing and his eyes glinted mockingly. "My time in this cell is actually reaching its end, mortal. Your leader, Nick Fury, has stated that he will let me out in exchange for information on the enemy."

Darcy shook her head, confused. "You are the enemy."

A mock-wounded look settled over his features. "It's as if you don't know me at all, mortal. I am your friend. Your comrade in arms. I am here to help you," he said - but there was a darkness to his words. Tricks and lies. Too good to be true.

"You tried to take over the world," Darcy dead-panned.

His friendly demeanor slipped. "And a better world it would have been for it."

"Yeah, ya see, I'm so not down for the whole kneeling in subjugation thing, so I'm gonna have to disagree with you on that one," she said, giving him a once-over, as if she wasn't impressed with his debauched plans.

He pressed closer to the glass. Darcy was momentarily distracted by his large, fine-boned hands. His long fingers slowly slid along the smooth, clear surface like a lover's caress. When her eyes trailed back to his, the depths of his green eyes burned into her. "Oh, I think you would have been very much down for the kneeling," he said, twisting her words. For that moment, Darcy couldn't look away - couldn't breathe. "I would have had a very special place for a fiery little thing like you to kneel before." His splayed palm slid down the glass, and Darcy's gaze followed unwittingly. His hand finally stopped on the glass centered at his crotch level.

When his meaning sunk in, her gaze snapped back up to his. His grin was anticipatory, and his eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh! Dude! You are so gross!" Darcy said, her cheeks reddening as an onslaught of unwanted images slid through her brain because of his words and gesture.

She quickly spun in her chair, turning away from him. "God of Mischief? More like God of Perversion," she muttered, trying to focus her mind back on the screen. She could hear dark chuckling behind her. It was impossible for her to concentrate on the television screen. She tried to think happy thoughts. Jack-o-lanterns and candy. Fall leaves and sweaters. Pumpkin flavored everything and mischief.

Ugh. Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep, calming breath. It didn't work. She was still so very aware of him behind her, staring into the back of her head. With an irritated sigh, she turned off the television. She hadn't been that enthused while watching it anyway. Good thing she always had her handy-dandy iPod. The large, concrete-made room was blanketed in silence for a moment while she dug into her pocket.

And then: "That's better." But it was said in the most irritating and most condescending way that he made it sound like Darcy had turned off the TV for his benefit. Darcy stopped digging for her iPod. Anger boiled within her when she realized that he thought he'd manipulated her into doing his bidding.

She quickly stood up from her seat, standing up ram-rod straight and marching over to stand before him in front of the glass. When Darcy was provoked she became something of a hot head. It didn't even matter that Tall, Dark and Insane was at least a foot taller than her. She glared up at him through the reflective glass, seeing a faint image of her angry face outlined against Loki, who was watching her through narrowed eyes. "That wasn't for your benefit!"

He lowered his face down to her level, a self-satisfied smirk ghosting his lips. She could see every dark, sweeping eyelash around his emerald eyes. "You tell yourself that, mortal… But do you really mean it? In the end, you've done what I wanted."

"I've done what I wanted!"

"And what you wanted was to please me."

Darcy's mouth gaped open wide at his audacity. "The last thing I'd ever want to do in this entire world - no, wait, with you I can do one better - in this entire universe," she said, continuing to glare up at him, "is please you!"

Loki made a fast movement, swooping as possibly close to her as he could through the glass. Despite herself, she jumped. His gaze was hot and feverish. "I could have you begging to please me by the end of this night, mortal," he breathed out in a low and dusky tone.

Darcy stepped back, a forbidden coil dropping down to the root of her stomach. Um, that had sounded…dirty… Whose bright idea was it to stick her in a room with the crazy dude? Darcy had the ability to annoy even the mellowest of people with her chatterbox mouth! She really shouldn't be left alone with a manipulative demi-god. Her only silver-lining was the fact that there was a glass barrier between them. She latched onto that fact, taking comfort in it. She knocked on the glass to emphasize her next words. "Says the dude behind the indestructible barrier. Nice try, though," she added sardonically.

He started a slow laugh under his breath, as if he knew something she didn't. The sound sent a chill through her. "Your naivete is…" He searched for a word. "Sweet," he settled on. "I do not need to be able to get my hands on you to achieve what I want from you."

His way of speaking was shadowy. Everything he said left Darcy feeling like his words were double-edged and could mean just about anything. Where Thor's speech was formal, medieval, and booming - Loki's was ethereal and adaptive. He was obviously the more clever and cunning of the two, and could use the power of his words to wrap you up in a velour trap. She now understood why one of his titles was the silver-tongued god. Darcy stared into his darkening green eyes, seeing fire and…mischief. She cleared her throat. "…We are…still talking about, like, who has control over the television, right?" she asked, feeling completely confused and on edge.

Loki slowly stepped backwards, away from her, with that self-satisfied smile playing at his lips. He didn't answer her. Instead, his eyes never left hers as he stepped into the center of his glass cell. A feeling of foreboding settled in Darcy's gut. His scorching gaze finally detached from hers and slowly slid down along the planes of her body. He was giving her an once-over. She noticed he had no qualms with staring just a little too long at her curves.

Darcy fidgeted. She was just about to make a sarcastic remark about 'taking a picture it'll last longer' when there was a current of…something. Something dark and hedonistic. And then something was happening. He was…changing. Morphing into a smaller being. His regal Asgardian metal melted and flowed along a body that was losing its sharp angles and was becoming plush…curvy. Darcy's eyes widened behind her square-framed glasses when she started to recognize what was happening. Loki was shape-shifting into her!

When the transformation was complete, Darcy had the strangest experience of seeing herself inside the glass cage. Everything from the dark blue skinny jeans to the black and orange Halloween sweater she wore was duplicated on Darcy-Loki. The only thing different was the truly mischievous smile that was on Darcy-Loki's face.

"…Okay," Darcy said. "Now you're me. Can't say I was expecting that."

And she really hadn't been expecting it. She'd been debriefed about Loki before she had to watch him, and it said in his file that, since his defeat in the Manhattan battle against the Avengers seven months ago, he'd been very reasonably subdued and hadn't performed any escape attempts or magic… But then again there hadn't been any reports in his file about obstinate behavior, like back-talk, either - and Darcy had provoked that out of him real quick - so maybe she just…brought this side out of him?

Greaaat…leave it up to her to make the mischievous demi-god do a no-no.

"Um, neat trick and all…but, even if you look like me, you're not me, and there's still that whole thing where you're in a giant indestructible cell," Darcy said with emphasis. "Soooo - really don't see how turning yourself into a replica of me is going to Jedi mindtrick me, or help you gain access to the remote for that matter."

Darcy-Loki gave her a dry smile and brought her hands up to her hair, running her fingers through the long chestnut tresses. "This isn't about your precious television, mortal," Darcy-Loki said in contempt… She sounded just like Darcy. Except for, you know - evil.

"Then what is it about?" Darcy asked with a hint of an edge seeping in.

Darcy-Loki went on trailing her hands along her form. She was caressing her neck now while staring at Darcy through narrowed eyes. They were filled with cunning. "This is about getting you to please me," she intoned in such a way that Darcy's own voice sounded deceptive, threatening…sultry to her ears.

Darcy's eyes tracked Darcy-Loki's hands… It was all clicking into place, and Darcy was decidedly getting really, really uncomfortable. "Ok…you've shown me your trick. You've had your fun. You can change back now."

Darcy-Loki purposefully slid her hands lower, skimming along her sides. Her eyes flashed green for a moment. Her smile was positively carnal. "Well, we don't always get what we want now, do we?" she asked mockingly, throwing Darcy's words from earlier back at her.

Darcy gaped at the God of Mischief. "Hey! Wait - no! That's not cool! No, no! Don't do that!" she screeched, as Darcy-Loki started to raise the hem of her Halloween sweater, exposing her pale midriff. Darcy decided that maybe it was about time that she changed her tune, hoping that it would stop this madness. "I turned off the TV for you!"

"Oh?" Darcy-Loki asked in a mock-innocent voice. "Didn't you do that for your own benefit?" The sweater was pulled up to the top of her rib cage now. "Besides, I rather like this current game we are playing, mortal. Breasts such as these should not be hidden within these disgusting rags you humans call attire."

It took Darcy a moment to process the insult-compliment combo. "Hey, this sweater is awesome!" she finally ended up spluttering, pointing at her own Halloween sweater.

Darcy-Loki spared the garish Jack-o-latern and black cat sweater a dull glance. "It does not please me," she said succinctly, continuing to raise the sweater.

"Stop!" Darcy shouted, thrashing against the glass wall. Her heart was thudding wildly in her chest and her cheeks burned in humiliation. Loki looked like her. It was like he…she - whatever - was taking privileges with Darcy's own body parts.

Darcy-Loki coyly stopped her movements and stared at her with a calculating light in her eyes. "If you don't want me to take off my attire…then you must take off yours."

Darcy was in utter shock. 'This is about getting you to please me,' echoed in her head. What a conniving, manipulative, evil bastard! "No!" she said indignantly.

Darcy-Loki set her jaw, tight-lipped. "Then learn from your insolence," she said, pulling the sweater over her head.

Darcy beat her fists against the indestructible glass as Darcy-Loki's upper body was revealed. She looked exactly like Darcy - from the pale skin, to the exact same curves of her breasts, to every little freckle being in the right place. The look in Darcy-Loki's eyes was appreciative in the way a male appreciates the feminine form as she looked down at herself. Darcy suddenly got the mental image of the male Loki looking at her true body like that. A chill went down her spine, making her disgusted with herself for having such a reaction.

"Stop this!" she shouted. "That's my body-"

"It is my body," Darcy-Loki said, sauntering over to stand back in front of Darcy while unclasping the hook to her black bra. Her breasts spilled out, pale and rose-tipped and tightened in arousal. "And these are my breasts," she said as she cupped them. She gave a soft moan, her head tipping back and her eyes squeezing shut, as she started to squeeze and roll her nipples.

Darcy stood rooted to the spot, her breathing accelerating and her humiliation rising. In her mind's eye she could see Loki's large masculine hands cupping and pleasuring her breasts. "Stop," she rasped out through suddenly dry lips. She licked them. Darcy-Loki caught the action as she languidly reopened her eyes.

She ignored Darcy's feeble command. Instead, she said, "If I were in my male form, mortal, I would lick and suck and bite at your lips and breasts until you were begging for more." She said this as she continued to manipulate her breasts. Darcy realized that the God of Mischief was showing her what he would do to her if there wasn't a glass barrier in between them. Darcy-Loki must have liked the look on Darcy's face because she grinned. "Do you want to please me yet?"

"What? N-no, you freak! Stop it!" Darcy stuttered. But she sounded so unsure of herself. She hated herself for it.

Darcy-Loki's smile was absolutely wicked, like she knew it was only a matter of time. One hand let go of a breast and she trailed it up to her mouth, outlining the plump shape of her lips. "Do you want to know what I would do with these alluring lips?" she asked. She didn't wait for a response, so it must have been a rhetorical question. "If I were in my male form…I wouldn't be able to resist tracing your lips with my tongue…and then later with my cock."

Darcy covered her own lips with a hand in shock. Ohmygod sick sick sick! It was so fucking wrong but Darcy felt her body respond to her crude words. A resilient image of the male Loki plagued her mind - naked, aroused, and claiming her body with his own. Darcy turned her head away, trying to catch her breath. "Stop it!"

"I would want to feel the softness and fullness of your lips against the tip right before I press myself inside your mouth," Darcy-Loki continued breathlessly. "I would watch you kneel before me as you sucked and licked me, with my hands in your hair, guiding you along until you made me come…" There was a pause. The next words that were said made Darcy's eyes widen. It was Loki's own voice. Masculine, terrifying and insidious. "…And do you know what, mortal? I would pull out and paint your lovely lips and breasts with my seed."

Darcy was shivering. Her heart was pumping madly and she could feel the slick ache deep inside of her. She slowly turned her head back around.

Loki was back to himself. However, his chest was bare and he only wore his black Asgardian leather pants and boots. It was like seeing him through different eyes, now that she had all of these images of him doing carnal things to her. Her gaze flitted over the sleek planes of his taut abdomen, slowly trailing up to his darkened green eyes. He was smirking, like he had her how he wanted her.

"I would ask you if you want to please me," he said, his gaze positively roving over her like a heated caress. "But your body's reactions give you away."

Darcy lowered her hand from her mouth, took a deep, steadying breath, and tried to ignore the throb in between her legs. "I would never do those things with you," she grit out. "You're sick."

He tilted his head to the side, regarding her. He caught his lower lip in his teeth, looking as if he wished he was doing the action to her. "You have spirit, little ingenue, I'll give you that. You are, however, a horrible liar." His eyes went wide. "I would know."

God of Mischief and Lies rang in Darcy's head. She suddenly wondered if it was her conscious at all or if it was his tricks that were putting these words and visuals in her head. "Yeah? Well, obviously you don't, because I never would do those things with you. Ever," she reiterated.

He studied her for a moment, taking in her grim set face. "I believe that you believe your words," he finally said, "and I shall relish the moment when I prove you completely and utterly wrong."

Darcy's breath caught in her throat. His hand, now large and masculine again, slid down the center of his chest, running down his skin, bringing Darcy's attention to how firm and flawless his form was. His long fingers skimmed over the ridges of his abs, over the dip of his bellybutton, and down the taut plane where a fine little smattering of silken black hair led as a goody-trail down to the low-slung waist of his black pants.

There was no way to deny the huge bulge tenting his pants. Especially when he cupped himself with his hand. He firmly squeezed, emitting a soft, agonized groan of pleasure that sent another painfully arousing throb down through Darcy's center.

"What are you doing?!" Darcy squeaked in alarm.

He was staring at her through the glass, panting lowly. "Proving you wrong," he said, right before he hissed in pleasure.

Somehow looking at his face rather than at what his hand was doing was even worse. She could see the want clear in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to devour her whole. And the horrible thing was, there was a tiny voice inside of her head, which was growing stronger and stronger, that wanted the glass barrier gone - there was a part of her that wanted to be consumed! At the beginning of the night she'd been able to play it off like she wasn't attracted to him because he was an evil incarcerated alien dude, but now - now she had heard things that she couldn't unhear. He'd used his silver tongue on her and said these self-assured things and knew exactly what he wanted to do to her. Darcy had never had a man use the power of language to seduce her. The few sexcapades she'd had in college had been clumsy and awkward and not all that satisfying.

Loki had a look in his eyes that spoke of knowing how to completely satisfy her.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, "I would know every dip, every curve of your body, and have you shaking in pleasure, mortal. " He was still touching himself through his pants. His cheeks were flushed and his jewel-toned eyes were dilated. The dark emerald was almost completely overtaken by black lust. "Don't think that I would be the only one gaining pleasure," he continued. "I would drive you to the brink with my hands, and just when you would think you cannot handle it any longer, I would kiss and lick my way down your body and delve my tongue into the place where you ache most."

Darcy squeezed her thighs together. She noticed that one of her hands had subconsciously risen towards her breast. She quickly crossed her arms under her chest, trying to ignore the diamond-hard points of her nipples calling for attention. She put a stubborn, unaffected mask on her face. "You'll never get me to want to…please you, as you put it. So you might as well stop what you're doing." Please, please, please stop, she thought. She felt like she was so close to orgasming just from the sound of his voice and watching him rub himself.

Of course, he didn't listen to her. "I bet you taste sweet, my little ingenue," he said, his eyes flitting down the length of her jeans, centering on her crotch. He moaned again. His hand was working frenetically against the ridge in his pants. "Hot and wet and honeyed," he rasped.

Oh my fucking God, Darcy thought, trembling.

"I would lick your quim until you drenched my mouth with your juices," he continued, breathing laboriously now. He was pulling at the crissed-crossed strings tying the front of his pants together. Despite herself, she was watching; waiting avidly. She was ashamed, but she also wanted to see. "And then I would slide back up your body…and take you," he breathed. The strings grew lax. "Look," he said. His words were practically caresses against her over-sensitized flesh. "See what you've done to me." His hand slid inside his pants.

She waited with bated breath…

But the moment never came. Instead, Loki looked away from her towards the entrance door, distracted, like he'd heard something - and then, in a flash, he was on the other side of the room, in his full Asgardian armor, sitting on the bench.

Darcy blinked. What the-?

But then understanding set in as she heard the voice.

"Miss Lewis?" an elderly man called out. She recognized it as Bernard Tanner, one of SHIELD's custodians.

The intrusion was like a dash of cold water to her overheated senses. Darcy took a steadying breath, slowly turning to greet the newcomer. Her eyes connected with Loki's for a brief moment before she was turned all the way around. His eyes were dark and seemed to flash warningly with a look that said 'we're not done here.' Darcy was so fucking weak-kneed and aching as she turned her back on him.

She pasted on a smile. "Hey, Bernard! What's up?"

The older gentleman gave her a gentle smile, stepping further into the room. He was a balding man dressed as a pirate. He reminded her of Captain Hook's first mate, Smee. "Oh, a lot, Miss Lewis, with that Halloween party going on here tonight. Too much for this old-timer to handle," he joked. "That's why I'm here, actually. I thought about you locked in down here doing not much of anything while everyone else is having fun, and I thought to myself, that's not right. You're young and you should be having a good time. So I thought I'd take over the rest of your shift so you could enjoy the rest of the party."

"Oh," Darcy said, shaking her head and feeling frazzled. It took her way too long to process his words.

The old, balding gentleman looked at Darcy in concern. "Is everything alright, Miss Lewis?" His gaze cut over to Loki. "He's not giving you any trouble, is he?"

Darcy followed his gaze, looking at the incarcerated Asgardian. Despite the heated interaction they'd only been having moments before, Loki looked cool, calm, and collected with his sleek black hair and his strange and beautiful armor. A small sneer curled his lips, as if he thought himself above the dull chatter of humans. He looked every part the regal god…except for the barely perceptible fire in his eyes that was just for her. There was a demand there - telling her to get rid of Bernard so that they could get back to what they had been…discussing.

Darcy felt like she was on a ledge. She seriously almost regretted what she was about to do. Her skin was tight and fevered and demanded more…but it wasn't right. She squashed down the notion to give in to him. She made her features take on a look as if he was an annoying fly buzzing around her head. Loki's eyes narrowed dangerously on her. "Who, him?" she asked flippantly. "No, he's not bothering me one bit," she said pointedly. The hard look in her eyes said, 'I will not give in to you.'

Loki looked like he was about ready to start nashing his teeth in fury.

Darcy turned her back on him, feeling shaky and so sexually frustrated she could barely stand it, but also like she had just won a huge battle of wills by evading the seductive charms of the God of Mischief. She smiled a real smile at Bernard. "Thank you so much, Bernard! I'll owe you one for this, buddy!" she said as she gave him a high-five and exited out of the room.

Loki stared at the door through the crescents of half-closed eyes. Inside, he raged at the mortal for spurning him. Just who did that little chit think she was? Did she think that he would allow her to walk away from him with the last word? Especially when she had riled him up so completely? Below his armor, his cock throbbed so much it bordered on the pleasurable side of pain as he thought of the defiant mortal girl. He needed to achieve release soon…

Preferably inside her, he thought darkly.

Yes… He thought of the glazed look in her dark blue eyes, and the way she had been unconsciously biting that lovely bottom lip of hers as she watched him undress. She was very much affected by him. She wanted to please him… And he'd get the fiery little ingenue to admit it if it was the last thing he did.

He released his clenched fists, feeling a shift in his mood. A mischievousness smirk played at his lips for a moment before he schooled his features into a disinterested visage.

"Mortal," he said to the old man. "That girl failed to give me my evening meal, and I am hungry."

Bernard frowned at him but nodded his head in assent. He went over to the refrigerator SHIELD kept in the captivity chamber, and looked through the packaged gourmet meals they sent down from the Avenger's kitchens. "What'll it be? Spaghetti or lemon herb chicken with a baked potato and green beans?"

Loki did not hide his displeasure. "I have little care for what it is, mortal. Your planet's cuisine is garish and leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth. My only requirement at this point is that it will fill me."

"Spaghetti it is, then," Bernard said after a moment.

Loki kept his silence as the food was placed in the microwave (a most horrible device that seemed to be a favorite among these mortals). When it was finished, the mortal placed it on a tray with a napkin, silverware, and a bottle of water.

The satisfaction he felt when the mortal pressed in the code and the glass door released its deathlike clutch from the seal was unparalleled. He grinned openly now, as the mortal couldn't see him.

The mortal stepped into the glass chamber as Loki stepped out, never knowing that he was placing the tray of food in front of one of Loki's duplicates.

Loki simply walked out of the captivity chamber. It was time to find his mortal - for that's what he thought of her now.

He had another trick to show her.

Fin


End file.
